


Whispers and Moans

by Angels_Heap



Category: Half-Life
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Porn with the Vaguest Semblance of Plot, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:27:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23296231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angels_Heap/pseuds/Angels_Heap
Summary: 200-: Gordon has a terrible day at work, forgets what day of the week it is, and really isn’t in the mood to sit through a sci-fi action movie. Barney takes it upon himself to get Gordon to relax for once, and he seriously can’t believe this oblivious dork has a PhD.202-: Barney is frustrated by the limitations of post-Combine medical advances and just can’t seem to take a compliment. Gordon decides that they have some serious catching up to do, completely gives up on subtlety, and finally gets the last laugh.
Relationships: Barney Calhoun/Gordon Freeman
Comments: 57
Kudos: 562





	1. 200-

Gordon Freeman stormed through the doorway of his apartment and slammed the door behind him without breaking stride. Desperate to shed the restrictive trappings of professionalism, he kicked off his shoes, emptied his pockets, and tossed his lab coat over the back of the nearest chair, all while muttering curses under his breath.

Much to Gordon’s compounding disappointment, this part of his regular weeknight routine did tragically little to alleviate his frustration and anxiety.

The last ten hours of never-ending catastrophes had made it painfully clear that his colleagues still didn’t take him seriously as a professional, though they certainly didn't hesitate to make him the center of attention when they needed a scapegoat.

Equipment malfunctions, overdue reports, rapidly approaching deadlines… somehow, it had all fallen on him, and he wanted to scream. He also kind of wanted to hit something, but he held back; with his luck, he figured he’d just end up breaking his hand on top of everything else. 

Empowered by his own display of restraint, Gordon heaved a deep, exhausted sigh and tried to accept the fact that there was simply nothing else he could do at this point. Dr. Kleiner had all but forced him to go home for the night, which meant he wasn’t going to be able to get back into the lab until Monday. In the meantime, the rational part of his brain knew he should just take an extra Xanax, try to relax, and call it an early night.

To that end, Gordon sank down onto the edge of his bed and let his hair down, carelessly tossing the elastic into a corner. He untucked his shirt and allowed himself to fall backwards onto the mattress as he reached for his belt, suddenly eager for some good old-fashioned stress relief. 

As soon as the buckle clicked open, a loud knock at the front door caught Gordon by surprise. He froze, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights, until it hit him that it was Friday _._ He’d gotten so overwhelmed at work that he hadn’t thought to call Barney to cancel movie night, but still, he wasn’t supposed to arrive until 7:00, and it wasn’t like Barney Calhoun had ever been _early_ for anything in his life…

A glance at the clock on his nightstand revealed that it was nearly 7:30. Gordon groaned and rolled out of bed to open the door. He had completely lost track of time. 

Under normal circumstances, spending time with Barney was easily the highlight of his week. After the day he’d had, though, the last thing Gordon wanted was to have to confront even _more_ confusing, uncomfortable emotions. For better or worse, however, he supposed he’d just have to go with it. It seemed like it was already too late to back out. 

He trudged over to the front door and reached for the handle. In doing so, he happened to glance downwards and made the alarming discovery that his belt was still undone. After hastily dealing with that potentially embarrassing oversight, he took a deep breath and swung the door open.

Barney greeted him with a wide grin and promptly shoved a six-pack of beer into his hands. As soon as he’d completed the handoff, he brushed past Gordon and flopped onto the couch, clearly inclined to make himself right at home. Unlike Gordon, Barney had apparently left work with enough time to change into casual clothes, and he looked… nice.

“Guess who _finally_ managed to snag a copy of Independence Day?” Barney announced, holding up a rented VHS tape in triumph as he kicked his feet up on the coffee table. “You’re gonna love this one, Doc. I know, I know, it’s about aliens and shit, but the main character went to MIT, so hey, I figure you oughtta be able to—”

Barney stopped abruptly and looked Gordon up and down, seeming to finally notice the bags under his eyes and the tension evident in his posture. Gordon was still hovering in the doorway, clutching the case of beer in both hands and shifting his weight awkwardly as he fought against the instinct to shy away from Barney’s gaze. 

“Uh, is this a bad time? You didn’t call so I figured we were still on, but I can, y’know…” Barney jerked a thumb in the direction of the doorway and slowly slid his feet off of the table.

Another beat or two passed before Gordon managed to find his voice. “No, it’s… it’s fine, you can stay.” He turned around to set the six-pack on the kitchen counter and mumbled, “Just had a long day in the lab.”

Barney hummed sympathetically. “Gotcha. Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really, no.”

Gordon sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Despite his physical and mental exhaustion, he couldn’t bring himself to kick Barney out, but he also knew better than to take him up on his invitation to vent. He could still hardly believe that a guy like Barney was voluntarily choosing to hang out with _him,_ of all people, and the last thing he wanted was to scare him away by showing him what an anxious wreck he was.

“Okay, fine, I respect that,” Barney said with a shrug. “You got popcorn?”

After responding with a nod, Gordon reached for a bag to put in the microwave, secretly thankful for a mindless task to distract him from his inner monologue. While he searched his disorganized cupboards for a suitable popcorn bowl, he heard Barney turn on the TV, pop in the tape, and start the previews.

Then, suddenly, Barney was squeezing past him in the tiny kitchen, his hand briefly grazing his shoulder as he made a beeline for the cabinet where Gordon kept his bottle opener. The innocent touch sent a pleasant shiver down his spine.

“When are you gonna quit keepin’ all the important stuff on the top shelf, huh?” Barney grumbled as he braced himself against the counter and groped for the gadget that was just out of reach. “Normal-sized people use this kitchen too, you know.”

Gordon’s half-formed snarky comeback died on his lips in an instant when he noticed that Barney’s t-shirt had ridden up when he reached for the high shelf, exposing a sliver of toned skin above the waistband of his jeans. After what Gordon sincerely hoped had only been a couple of seconds, he realized he was staring and sharply averted his gaze.

Barney shot him a look that he couldn’t quite read right before he successfully grabbed the bottle opener, turned around, and popped open two beers without saying a word.

With a bottle in each hand, Barney made his way back to the living room just in time to pause the tape before the movie started without them. Gordon stood rooted to the spot and watched him retreat. 

A moment later, the piercing _beep, beep, beep_ of the microwave startled him out of his trance. It took him a second to remember what he was supposed to be doing, but he managed to recover quickly. After putting the remaining beers in the refrigerator where they belonged—somehow, he couldn't find it in him to be annoyed at Barney for failing to do that himself—he turned his attention back to the popcorn. 

Although he was too chicken to check, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Barney was watching him, and apparently, that thought alone was enough to completely rob him of his fine-motor coordination.

Gordon cursed under his breath as he fumbled with the paper bag, first dropping it on the counter and then burning his finger when he tried to rip it open. Sure enough, even over the sound of cold running water, he could hear Barney chuckling from the living room.

Great, so Barney thought it was hilarious that he was such a bumbling, anxious idiot, and the night was only just getting started. 

Gordon willed himself not to dwell on that thought as he flipped the switch to turn off the lights in the living room. Barney always insisted that dimming the overhead light made for a better movie watching experience, and fortunately, the bright light spilling out from the kitchen provided plenty of illumination to keep Gordon from tripping over his own feet or otherwise further humiliating himself. Hopefully.

Barney was still laughing when Gordon finally joined him on the couch, bowl of popcorn in hand. Barney slid closer so they could share the popcorn and handed Gordon a beer.

“Ready to watch Jeff Goldblum kick some alien ass?”

Gordon took a long sip of his beer before replying with a not-at-all-convincing, “Sure?”

“C’mon, humor me,” Barney implored him, punctuating his request with an enthusiastic shoulder slap. “You don’t gotta believe in aliens. You just gotta relax and enjoy.”

* * *

Gordon tried to focus on the movie. Really, he did. But thoughts of unfinished experiments and malfunctioning equipment and reports yet unwritten stubbornly refused to stop swirling through his head, and on top of all that, he had to deal with the fact that Barney had absolutely _no_ concept of personal space.

It was impossible for Gordon _not_ to be hyper-aware of the fact that Barney had sprawled out on the couch so that their knees were almost touching, and so that his arm was resting along the backrest somewhere behind Gordon’s shoulders.

He couldn’t bring himself to eat more than a few bites of popcorn because his stomach was doing somersaults and he hoped Barney hadn’t noticed how slowly he was drinking his beer. He simply couldn’t afford to let himself get too buzzed too quickly, lest he do or say something he would almost certainly regret later.

Gordon liked to think he could trust Barney. He was a great guy. Fun to be around. A good friend who somehow seemed to genuinely enjoy his company, despite the fact that Gordon didn’t possess even a fraction of Barney’s charm or wit or any of the other qualities that he—along with the countless beautiful women that Barney always seemed to be flirting with—found so compelling about the younger security guard. 

Still, the stakes were too high for him to take the risk of acting on his silly, almost definitely unrequited crush. He couldn’t handle the thought of alienating the best friend he’d ever had in his adult life, and beyond that, he was all too aware that coming out to the wrong person could spell the end of his career.

Most of his colleagues already saw him as little more than the young, baby-faced nepotism hire with the weird anxiety disorder. The _last_ thing he needed was to also develop a reputation in his field as ‘the gay one.’

Technically, he was bisexual, but Gordon doubted the rest of the science team would appreciate the distinction.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gordon watched Barney try, and spectacularly fail, to shove an entire handful of popcorn into his mouth at once without tearing his gaze away from the action unfolding on the TV screen. Gordon visibly startled when Barney reached over with his free arm—the one that wasn’t resting on the back of the couch—to retrieve the stray kernels that had bounced into Gordon’s lap.

“You’re awfully jumpy tonight,” Barney observed. He tossed a piece of popcorn into the air and just barely managed to catch it in his mouth. “You sure you don’t wanna talk about whatever’s eatin’ ya?”

At this point, Gordon’s anxiety about the situation at work had taken a backseat to his fears and insecurities about his entirely inappropriate feelings for the man sitting beside him, so no, he most certainly did _not_ want to share what was on his mind. 

“It’s just… normal work stuff, mostly,” he explained with a shrug. He took another long sip of his beer to buy himself some time before continuing, “Some of our equipment was acting up today, and now I’ve got a bunch of reports to finish that I can’t get back to until Monday, and—” 

Gordon let out a very undignified grunt of surprise when Barney moved his arm from where it had been resting behind him and began to massage his neck with one hand.

Barney seemed to get a kick out of surprising him with neck massages at work, so he supposed maybe he should’ve expected this, and it most likely meant nothing… but he couldn’t deny that it felt different when they were sitting side-by-side on his couch, as opposed to a cafeteria table or his desk at work. They’d never been _alone_ like this before.

“Jesus _Christ,_ Doc, you’re so fuckin’ tense.” Barney pressed his thumb into a particularly tight knot of muscle, forcing Gordon to bite back a moan. “When’s the last time you took a break or… got a massage or, I dunno, jerked off or somethin’?”

Barney’s tone was casual and slightly joking, but that didn’t stop Gordon’s brain from momentarily short-circuiting or his face from flushing a very incriminating shade of pink, which only intensified when Barney scooted closer and switched to massaging his shoulders with both hands.

He sincerely hoped that that had been a rhetorical question, because he was not at _all_ inclined to discuss the details of his stress relief routine with Barney, especially considering how often it involved the March and August pages of the Black Mesa Security Force’s annual charity fundraising calendar.

Oh _God,_ was it possible that Barney still had those shorts?

A hopefully discreet glance downward revealed that Gordon’s untucked shirttails were still, much to his relief, mostly covering his crotch. Between his unwitting recall of the scandalous images seared into his brain and the incredible feeling of Barney’s fingertips digging into his upper back, it took everything in his power to keep from squirming.

Barney would have had to have been blind not to notice Gordon’s reaction to his innocuous earlier comment, but much to his surprise, his friend didn’t seem inclined to call attention to it. Instead, he remained uncharacteristically quiet as he continued to knead Gordon’s tense muscles with strong palms and fingers, humming softly in approval each time Gordon noticeably relaxed under his touch.

After Barney finished working his way from the edges of Gordon’s shoulders back to his neck, he paused and let out a low chuckle.

“I don’t seem to recall movie night havin’ a dress code,” he drawled, bringing an arm around to playfully tug on Gordon’s tie.

Oh, right. He’d never gotten around to removing the tie, since he’d had… _other priorities_ when he’d first gotten home.

Before Gordon had a chance to fix that problem on his own, Barney slid off the couch and moved to stand in front of him, bending at the waist and knees so they were almost eye-to-eye. He was blocking the TV, but Gordon didn’t care. He had no idea what was going on in the movie, anyway, and he much preferred this close-up view of Barney’s muscular chest in his fitted Black Mesa t-shirt. 

When he forced himself to steal a glance at Barney’s face, Gordon found that his friend was staring at him with that unreadable expression again while his fingers smoothly undid the knot in his tie. Seconds after the restricting pressure around his neck finally disappeared, Gordon’s breath hitched when Barney placed both hands on his shoulders again.

“There… that’s _much_ better, don’tcha think?” Barney asked. Gordon was pretty sure this question was rhetorical just like that last, but he decided to nod anyway, just in case Barney actually expected a response.

Barney smiled and placed one knee on the couch, just barely touching the outside of Gordon’s thigh, to brace himself as he picked up where he had left off earlier and resumed rubbing his neck, facing him this time. 

At first, Gordon leaned into the contact, until he realized in horror that he’d completely lost control of his breathing and Barney could _definitely_ feel his racing pulse. He tensed involuntarily at the thought, prompting Barney to snort and shake his head in faux disappointment. 

“C’mon, Gordon, you’ve _really_ gotta relax,” Barney murmured in a low, deep voice that sent goosebumps down his arms. Something in Barney’s tone—some undercurrent of vulnerability behind the more obvious notes of concern and, perhaps, affection—prompted Gordon to bring his head up to meet his friend’s gaze.

Barney’s pupils were blown wide and he was looking at Gordon like he wanted to devour him and was slightly terrified of him at the same time. Their faces were so close that it almost seemed like there wasn’t enough air between them for both of them to breathe. Gordon felt dizzy as the weight of Barney’s look sunk in.

He wasn’t imagining this. This was real. And if Barney was really so hell-bent on getting him to relax, then, well…

“Make me,” Gordon whispered, without breaking eye contact; a challenge, an invitation, and a desperate plea all at once.

In a flash, Barney’s lips were on his, and Gordon reciprocated without hesitation. He found himself powerless to stop the soft sounds that escaped from the back of his throat as Barney straddled him without breaking the kiss, effectively pinning him to the couch.

When they finally broke apart, Gordon struggled to catch his breath, flushed and flustered as he was. His brain was starting to catch up with his body and he had _so many_ questions.

Those questions only multiplied when Barney fixed him with a playful smirk and nonchalantly asked, “So, you wanna do that again?”

“I… God, _yeah,_ but…” Gordon’s thoughts were racing a mile a minute, and he was struggling to tune out the background noise from the movie now that his heartbeat wasn’t pounding in his ears. “You… I thought, uh, you…?”

“I’ve been flirtin’ with you for months, Doc,” Barney replied, his shoulders shaking with gentle laughter. He paused to straighten Gordon’s glasses and brush a few strands of hair out of his face. “Dunno how much more obvious I coulda made it without outing myself to the whole damn facility.”

A long moment passed in silence as Gordon mentally reviewed some of his more memorable recent interactions with his best friend. Up to this point, he had just assumed Barney was one of those naturally flirtatious guys who didn’t realize how their actions could be misconstrued; after all, he’d seen him tease and wink at other casual acquaintances on plenty of occasions and they’d all seemed unfazed.

In hindsight, though, that theory did not come anywhere _close_ to providing an adequate heterosexual explanation for all the lunchtime neck rubs… or the lingering, heavy looks in the gym locker room… or that one time Barney had practically felt him up under the guise of teaching him ‘proper firearms handling’…

“Oh,” Gordon finally managed. His undoubtedly comical wide-eyed expression prompted another wave of laughter from Barney.

“D’you think it’s too late to get a refund on that PhD? I mean, it was so much fun gettin’ you all worked up that I hardly even minded you playin’ hard to get, but if you’re seriously tellin’ me you had no idea—”

Gordon shut him up with another kiss—sloppier this time, and more urgent. The high from confirming their mutual attraction was exhilarating, and although he had yet to decide exactly where he wanted to go from here, Gordon figured more kissing was the logical place to start.

Barney seemed more than content to take the lead again while Gordon did his best to wrap his mind around this new development. That didn’t mean he made things easy for him, though; every single one of Barney’s experimental kisses and movements seemed to send sparks bouncing through Gordon’s system, temporarily scrambling his thoughts.

Sure, a few brief, awkward encounters in college and a lot of fantasizing as of late had given Gordon a pretty decent sense of how all of this was supposed to work with a man, theoretically. But putting it all into practice was technically _experimental_ physics, which meant Gordon was a little out of his depth… or a little out of practice, anyway. He suspected Barney had picked up on that, but thankfully, he didn’t seem to care. 

Gordon’s hips jerked of their own accord when Barney sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and lightly grazed it with his teeth. Barney responded by carefully settling more of his weight into Gordon’s lap and slowly, deliberately rolling his hips against his.

“Oh my _God,”_ Gordon gasped.

Barney broke away and grinned. “You like that?”

Gordon nodded mutely, transfixed by the sight of Barney’s flushed face and swollen lips. He looked perfect, amazing, somehow a thousand times hotter than he had even in Gordon’s wildest fantasies… and unbelievably, he was _real_ and he was _into this._

Earlier, Gordon had briefly considered removing his glasses, and now he was glad he’d decided against it. He wanted to see _everything._ Desperate for some kind of friction— _any_ kind of friction—he ground his hips against Barney’s again.

“Fuck, Gordon,” Barney groaned as he responded in kind. “Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

Gordon was pretty sure he was never going to want Barney to stop, but nevertheless, he nodded again. His breath caught in his throat as Barney ran his lips along his jawline and stopped to kiss the pulse point on his neck before he reached for the top button of Gordon’s shirt.

After undoing the first couple of buttons, Barney grabbed the loose tie that was still threaded through the rumpled shirt collar and slowly dragged the soft material back and forth across Gordon’s chest.

The sensation took him by surprise, as did his own sensitivity to it, but it was Barney’s wicked grin more than anything that left him squirming and moaning helplessly until Barney had mercy on him and resumed unbuttoning his shirt.

A moment later, Gordon had to remind himself to breathe once again when Barney’s hungry gaze and warm hands swept across his exposed chest and arms. Barney leaned forward and Gordon preemptively moaned again, expecting Barney to kiss or nibble his earlobe. And he did, but only for a second. 

“You’re in pretty good shape, for a man of science,” Barney murmured into his ear, before he quickly pulled away and winked.

Gordon had absolutely no idea how to respond to that, but the look on Barney’s face told him to accept the compliment at face value. He knew, objectively, that he was far from ripped, but at least the physical nature of his job had helped him get rid of his grad school paunch and build up a little bit of muscle. If Barney was into that, he certainly wasn’t going to argue with him.

The warmth that had spread through his body in response to Barney’s admiration of his physique abruptly redirected itself straight to his groin when Barney shed his own t-shirt and carelessly tossed it over his shoulder. 

He’d seen Barney shirtless before, of course, but this was the first time he’d had an opportunity to openly ogle him up close, and… _holy shit._ Whatever fitness program the Black Mesa Security Force required its officers to complete was definitely working.

Gordon knew he was staring, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. For so long, he’d fantasized about tracing his fingers—or maybe his tongue, if he could work up the courage—along the ridges of muscle that disappeared into the waist of Barney’s jeans, and suddenly, that dream was quite literally within reach. _That_ was going to take some getting used to. 

The sound of Barney clearing his throat finally snapped Gordon out of his reverie. He reluctantly tore his gaze away from Barney’s chiseled torso to meet his eyes again. Much to his alarm, he found that his friend was worrying his lower lip with his teeth and fidgeting with his hands in a very un-Barney-like fashion, visibly uncomfortable for the first time since they’d gotten started. 

Naturally, Gordon immediately panicked. 

Were they moving too quickly? Had Barney changed his mind? Was it because he didn’t like what he saw, or because Gordon had somehow offended him by staring, or because Barney could tell he hadn’t had much experience with men, or…?

“Hey, uh… you been tested recently?”

Oh. Gordon let out the breath he’d been holding, relieved that Barney wasn’t rejecting him and that he’d actually thought to ask important health and safety questions, seeing as his own common sense appeared to have taken a temporary backseat to his baser desires. 

He had to think for a moment before he replied, “Last semester of grad school. All negative.” He probably still had the printout with the results… somewhere… maybe?...

Barney nodded, but he still looked uncertain. He took advantage of the awkward silence to grab the TV remote and _finally_ turn off the goddamn movie; if nothing else, it appeared they were in agreement that over-dramatized explosions and panicked screams were not the most ideal soundtrack for this conversation. 

“It’s… it’s been a while, since, uh…” Gordon attempted to clarify. He could feel his face heating up as he spoke.

Thankfully, Barney saved him from having to finish that sentence by chuckling softly and reassuring him, “Don’t worry, it’s like ridin’ a bicycle.” He paused to laugh harder at his own choice of words. “Well, depending on what kind of bicycle you’re used to, I guess.”

Gordon could tell what he was getting at, but he didn’t feel inclined to offer a detailed sexual history in this particular moment. His first couple years of college had been an… _interesting_ experience that he still hadn’t fully unpacked. Instead, he simply shrugged and replied, “I trust you.”

Barney kissed him again, more gently than before, and shuffled forward to close the slight gap between their bodies. Gordon idly wondered how Barney’s thighs hadn’t yet gone numb or given out from straddling him for so long, but all available evidence suggested that he was just that strong _everywhere_ , and _oh,_ that certainly raised some interesting possibilities.

It wasn’t long before Barney’s kisses began to trail from Gordon’s lips to his neck, his collarbone, his chest…

Everything felt _amazing,_ but if Barney didn’t pick up the pace soon, Gordon was virtually certain he was going to either severely embarrass himself or die of sexual frustration.

Seeming to sense this, Barney looked up with a smirk and tantalizingly brushed his fingertips across Gordon’s lower abdomen, just above the waistband of his khakis. Gordon arched his back and groaned when the heavy weight still sprawled across his lap trapped his hips firmly in place.

“In case you were wonderin,’” Barney said, still inexplicably composed even as he ground into Gordon’s lap so roughly that his vision briefly went white, “I’m good too. All clear, few weeks ago.” He reached for Gordon’s belt and leaned in again.

“Been savin’ myself for you,” he growled, causing Gordon’s brain to short-circuit once again as he tried to process the revelation that Barney had not only _wanted_ for this to happen, but he’d also _planned_ _ahead._

God, how long had they both been holding back? And when was Barney going to _get on with it_ already?

Almost as if he’d read Gordon’s mind, Barney kissed him one last time before he slid off the couch, dropped to his knees, and settled between Gordon’s legs. 

“This okay?” he asked, as if the answer wasn’t already obvious from the way Gordon writhed under his touch and lifted his hips to allow Barney to slide his khakis and underwear down to the floor.

“Boxers with little test tubes on ‘em? Seriously, Doc?” Barney snorted. “Thought you were a fuckin’ physicist.”

Infuriatingly, Barney didn’t seem to be inclined to continue until Gordon took the bait. Through his frustration, he ground out, “Physicists use test tubes, too, Barn. Sorry to disappoint, but”—he gasped as a large, warm hand closed around his erection—“I asked for the ones with little anti-mass spectrometers and the sales clerk said they were fresh out.”

“Well, ain’t that a darn shame,” Barney replied with a seriousness that somehow belied the absurdity of the whole exchange.

With one hand, he continued to tease Gordon with slow, lazy strokes; with the other, he unzipped his own jeans. From his vantage point, Gordon couldn’t see what that hand was doing, but his imagination was more than prepared to fill in the blanks. 

Barney eventually looped his free arm around Gordon’s waist, encouraging him to scoot closer to the front of the couch. Before Gordon had a chance to solicit verbal confirmation of his suspicions about what Barney had in mind, Barney had taken him into his mouth, and he was looking up at him with dark, lust-filled eyes and he was doing things with his tongue that nearly sent Gordon into orbit. 

The litany of curse words that spilled from Gordon’s lips rapidly lost coherence as Barney concluded the trial-and-error data collection phase of his exploration and settled into a rhythm that seemed to press all of Gordon’s buttons at once, including a few he hadn’t even known about prior to this encounter.

He tried to be considerate, at first, and keep the movement of his hips to a minimum, but it soon became clear to Gordon that holding back would require a level of physical and mental discipline that he simply did not possess. Barney’s low moans, which Gordon _felt_ more than heard, strongly suggested that Gordon’s frenzied movements were only spurring him on.

All too soon, Gordon felt himself approaching the point of no return. His fingers gripped Barney’s mop of black hair for dear life as he stuttered, “Barn… mmm, God, I… I’m gonna…”

Barney didn’t stop, leaving Gordon with no choice but to spill into his mouth as shockwaves radiated through his body and everything cut to white noise. He was vaguely aware of the sensation of Barney swallowing around him, and he still couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes when Barney released him a split second before his post-orgasm sensitivity became too much to handle.

The couch cushions sagged when Barney flopped down next to him, leaned over, and kissed his cheek. Gordon let his head slump against Barney’s shoulder and noted with a strange satisfaction that Barney’s pulse was pounding almost as quickly as his own.

“You good?” Barney asked.

Gordon only managed to nod in response. He let out a soft sigh when Barney began to run his fingers through his messy hair, grounding him while he came down from the high of what he was pretty sure had been the best orgasm of his life.

When he finally opened his eyes, Gordon looked up to find Barney smiling down at him with a surprising amount of tenderness, given what had just transpired. A glance downwards revealed that Barney’s jeans had fallen low on his hips and were hanging open, revealing a tantalizing wet spot where his arousal was still straining against his red boxer briefs.

Gordon reached for him, eager to return the favor, but Barney stopped him by grabbing his wrist. He heard a sharp intake of breath and mentally prepared himself to explain that yes, he _did_ want to do this, not out of a sense of obligation but because he was _dying_ to show Barney how he felt about him, and…

When Barney finally spoke, what actually came out of his mouth took Gordon completely by surprise. “This, uh… this couch cover isn’t washable, is it?” 

“Um… I don’t know, but… probably not?” Gordon shoved his free hand between the two closest couch cushions and felt around for a zipper. He didn’t find one.

Barney exhaled slowly and moved to sit up. “Yeah, so… we’re gonna want to move, then. Just… trust me.”

That was all the encouragement Gordon needed to jump to his feet. Almost instantaneously, his vision began to swim; he’d stood up too fast, and his body was not having it. He very nearly lost his balance, but at the last second, he felt Barney grab him under the arms and gently lower him back to the couch.

Barney pressed another kiss to his cheek, as if that was the most natural reflex in the world. “I admire your enthusiasm, Doc, but I can’t have you passin’ out on me here. Also, you’re gonna trip over your own damn pants if you’re not careful.”

Gordon chuckled sheepishly and waited for his vision to clear before he rose to his feet again, more slowly this time, and made his way over to his bed. Silently, he thanked his lucky stars that he’d done laundry only a couple of days ago. Barney didn’t need to know which of his bad grad school habits had stuck with him.

He flopped onto the bed and leaned against his pillow in an effort to look relaxed and confident, even though his inner monologue was starting to spiral out of control again. He wasn’t sure exactly what Barney expected, and even though he was theoretically open to trying just about anything in the heat of the moment, this lull in the action was forcing him to re-evaluate his boundaries with a clearer head.

It wasn’t long before Gordon was jarred out of his thoughts once again by the sight of Barney stepping out of his pants and shorts in preparation to join him in bed. Barney flashed a devilish grin as he settled down next to Gordon and dramatically stretched, inviting—hell, practically _begging_ —him to look him over from head to toe.

“You’re allowed to touch, y’know,” Barney teased as he rolled over and captured Gordon’s lips in a passionate kiss. Gordon hesitated only briefly before responding, but the pause didn’t escape Barney’s attention.

Gordon mourned the loss of contact when Barney broke the kiss and propped himself up with one arm so he could look him in the eye. “You still good with this?” he asked. “‘S okay if you’re not, but you gotta talk to me. Tell me what you want.”

Once again, Barney’s tone and expression were so tender that Gordon almost couldn’t believe he’d gotten so lucky.

“I want this… I want to do something for you,” he started. Barney nodded, encouraging him to go on. “But…” Gordon swallowed hard. “Can we take things slow, for now?” He hoped he was making sense; in moments like this, he _really_ hated being so anxious, but he just couldn’t quite bring himself to be anymore frank when his face already felt like it was on fire. 

Barney responded with a hearty laugh; it wasn’t unkind, but it took Gordon by surprise. “If you’re stressin’ about what I think you’re stressin’ about, don’t. Trust me, I am _not_ gonna last long enough to make all that prep worth it, anyway.” He reached out with his free hand and began to trace a pattern across Gordon’s chest. “Also, I was serious about wantin’ you to relax earlier. I’m not gonna push you. Promise.”

Gordon couldn’t help but smile as Barney’s words immediately put him at ease and flooded his body with another wave of warmth. This time, he didn’t hesitate to reciprocate when Barney kissed him, and he didn’t feel compelled to hide his excitement when his friend rolled on top of him once again.

“You’re in charge here,” Barney breathed into his neck between kisses. “I trust ya. And if you’re not up for anything hands-on…” He pulled away and winked before continuing, “I’d be happy to give you a show.”

As enticing as that thought was, Gordon had no intention of turning down an opportunity for a hands-on experience. He reached down to where Barney’s arousal was throbbing against his stomach and took it in his hand, feeling quite pleased with himself when the action elicited a strangled gasp.

The angle felt a bit strange at first, but Gordon knew what he was doing on this front, and Barney certainly didn’t appear to have any complaints.

“Fuck, Gordon,” Barney gasped, his fingers digging into Gordon’s waist and twisting into his hair as the speed of their movements increased. “Yes, God, just like that.”

After another minute, Gordon found that he was struggling to keep up with the frantic thrusting of Barney’s hips. Barney, seeming to sense this, gently pushed his hand away and switched to grinding against Gordon’s stomach.

“This okay?” he panted, his chest heaving with exertion and arousal. Gordon nodded and took advantage of his newfound freedom to grab a handful of Barney’s ass, delighting in how the simple action sent a visible shiver running down the length of his partner’s body.

“So fuckin’ close, Gordon…”

Barney’s hips stuttered with each abbreviated thrust as he came between them, warmth flooding across Gordon’s stomach as Barney whimpered and moaned his name, his eyes clamped shut in ecstasy.

As soon as Barney rolled off of him, Gordon reached for a tissue to clean himself up and immediately understood why Barney had suggested they leave the couch. He grabbed a few extra tissues for good measure and shot Barney an incredulous look.

“Hey, I warned ya,” he replied, and Gordon couldn’t help but chuckle as Barney nuzzled lazily at his neck in an exaggerated display of innocence.

Once he’d finished dealing with the mess, Gordon set his glasses on the nightstand, rolled onto his side, and wrapped his arms around Barney, pulling him against his chest. He ran his fingers through Barney’s hair, just as he had done for him, and smiled when Barney hummed contentedly and took hold of his free hand, intertwining their fingers and squeezing gently. 

Gordon was almost afraid to move, lest he risk breaking the spell. Never in a thousand years would he have taken Barney Calhoun for a cuddler, but here they were, and he already couldn’t wait to do this again.

“What time do you get off tomorrow?” Gordon murmured.

Barney opened his eyes and tilted his head to look up at him with a grin. “I was plannin’ to leave that up to you, honestly.” Gordon’s blush only deepened when Barney added, “Tomorrow’s Saturday, genius. I don’t have anywhere else to be for a while.”

Oh, right. “Well, in that case… you could… I mean, only if you want to, obviously, but…”

“Jesus Christ, Gordon,” Barney interrupted with playful exasperation. “Yeah, sure, I can stay. Thought you’d never ask.”

He pressed a lazy kiss to the corner of Gordon’s mouth and then propped himself up with one arm. “I gotta say, I’ve been very impressed with the service here so far, but now I’m wonderin’… does this weekend vacation package come with a shower? Because, lemme tell you, I could definitely use one and I have a feelin’ you could too.”

“It does, but this late at night, there’s probably only enough hot water for one _good_ shower, so…” Gordon trailed off and flashed a mischievous grin.

Barney let out a dramatic sigh before meeting Gordon’s eyes with an equally devious smile. “Well, I s’ppose desperate times call for desperate measures. Whaddya say, Doc? Wanna join me?”

He didn’t have to ask twice.


	2. 202-

Barney startled awake, all senses on high alert as he tried to localize the loud noise that had shocked him out of a dreamless sleep. It seemed he’d fallen asleep sitting up in bed, and a quick survey of his surroundings revealed that he was still alone in his small, dimly lit dorm.

A dull ache in his heavily bandaged right leg brought everything flooding back: The train crash. Days and days of unrelenting agony. White Forest. The cloudy haze of painkillers. _Gordon._ Barney took a deep breath to slow his pounding heart rate and let himself relax into the pile of pillows supporting his torso.

 _Safe._ He was safe.

He heard the noise again, and this time, he recognized it as a knock on the door. Hesitantly, he called out, “Come in.” It sounded more like a question than a command.

The door creaked open, and Barney was surprised to discover that Gordon, of all people, had stopped by to see him. Huh. He’d kind of figured he’d seen the last of him in the infirmary.

Gordon was still wearing his lab coat over jeans and a t-shirt and he looked… good. Really good. Barney’s heart rate picked up again, in a much more pleasant way than before. 

“Hey,” he greeted, carefully keeping his tone light and casual. “Guess you found me, huh?”

Gordon smiled as he gently pushed the door closed and ventured a few steps further into the room. “I stopped by the infirmary and Dr. Padgett said you’d already been discharged. So, uh, I thought I’d see if you wanted to celebrate. Sorry if I’m intruding.”

Barney waved off Gordon’s apology. “It’s fine. It’s not like I was doin’ anything important,” he replied, unable to stop a note of bitterness from creeping into his voice.

He watched as Gordon’s gaze slowly traveled from his face to the crutches that had fallen to floor next to his bed the first (and last) time he’d tried to go for a walk on his own since being released from the medical bay.

Frustration bubbled up again as Barney vividly recalled his feeling of complete, utter helplessness when his weakened left leg had stumbled almost immediately upon hitting the floor. He’d just barely managed to haul himself back into bed before both of his crutches had slipped out of reach, dashing his hopes of trying again later.

When Gordon caught his eye again, his brows were creased with worry and it was clear from his expression that he’d deduced exactly what had happened.

“These things take time, Barn,” he said softly. “You’ll be up and about before you know it.”

Barney sighed. He was grateful, of course, that antlion grub goop and other weird-ass alien medicine had spared him from having to undergo a field amputation… but that didn’t make it any easier to accept that it would take _weeks_ for his crushed leg to fully heal, even with the best medical care available.

“Feels like everybody else is busy rebuildin’ society, and then here I am, sittin’ on my ass all day,” he muttered, unable to resist the temptation to wallow in self-pity. “Nurses told me I’d be able to get around on my own a bit, but it turns out I can’t even get outta bed without fuckin’ that up too.”

Barney let a dry, self-deprecating chuckle escape and added, “Shouldn’t’ve let ‘em take the wheelchair away, I guess. Made me look like I escaped from an old folks’ home, but hell, at least it was more or less idiot-proof.”

Gordon didn’t seem to know how to respond to that. “Would you rather… do you need to be alone right now?” he asked, still hovering awkwardly in the middle of the room.

A beat or two passed while Barney weighed his options. He knew he wasn’t going to be much fun to be around for the foreseeable future, but he also couldn’t bring himself to send Gordon away. Now that he was officially on the mend, he was all too aware that he was enjoying Gordon’s company on borrowed time. 

“Nah, you can stay. Sorry. Just frustrated, is all.”

Gordon flashed a sympathetic smile. “I’m here if you want to talk about anything,” he said as he took a few steps closer, kicked off his shoes, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

It didn’t escape Barney’s attention that Gordon was careful to leave one foot on the floor, but he also couldn’t help but notice how _relaxed_ his old friend looked once he’d settled in. He was resting so close that Barney could feel the warmth of his physical presence where their bodies were almost touching. As usual, Gordon smelled nice, too—like a mix of shampoo, detergent, and just a hint of something chemical.

After a long moment of not-quite-comfortable silence, Gordon’s hand flew to the front pocket of his lab coat. “Oh, I almost forgot… I brought you something.”

Barney could hardly believe his eyes when Gordon produced a bright red packet and dropped it into his outstretched hand. The bold, white text on the package was faded, but the brand name was still unmistakable.

“Scouting party found a cache of MREs yesterday,” Gordon explained, “and I, uh… I saved you some Skittles.”

Wow. Barney hadn’t had any kind of candy since… well, if he had to guess, he’d say it had been at least five years. Maybe longer. He turned the packet over in his hands a few times before holding it up to his face and squinting at the tiny date printed near the edge. 

“Ah, yes, 2001,” he remarked, affecting his best approximation of a posh British accent. “‘Twas a good year for Skittles.” That expiration date did not inspire confidence, but hell, he’d try anything once.

Much to Barney’s delight, his little comedy routine elicited a soft chuckle from Gordon. Barney grinned, ripped the packet open, and poured a few candies into his palm. They looked pretty much the same as he remembered, which seemed like a good sign.

Almost reflexively, he handed all of the green ones to Gordon—even after all this time, he didn’t think he could stomach that sickly-sweet artificial lime flavor—before he popped the first red candy into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor the taste.

Barney made it through half the packet before it occurred to him that he had completely forgotten his manners. “Thanks, Doc,” he said. “This is, well… it means a lot.”

Truthfully, he felt a more than a little guilty that Gordon had given up such a rare treat just to make him feel better about being bedridden and useless. He pretended not to notice when Gordon stole an orange Skittle out of his open palm; he figured that was the least he could do to pay him back.

Barney nearly choked on another piece of candy when Gordon abruptly scooted even closer and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. The innocent gesture made him feel like a damn teenager all of a sudden, with sweaty palms and a stomach full of butterflies. He took a deep breath and tried to remind himself not to read too much into this.

He and Gordon hadn’t really had a chance to talk about where they stood, seeing as they’d both had much bigger issues to deal with until very recently, but Barney figured it was only a matter of time until Gordon gently broke it to him that he had moved on.

How could he not have, after so many years, especially now that he’d seen what Barney had become?

Barney popped another candy into his mouth, chewing slowly to stall for time as he reflected on the situation, anxiety and misplaced longing gnawing at his insides.

It would be so _easy_ for him to give in and relax into Gordon’s embrace; in fact, his touch-starved body was practically screaming for him to do just that.

Hell, if he was going to indulge in that fantasy, why stop there? He could roll over, wrap his arms around Gordon’s waist, kiss every single one of his scars and freckles, see if he was as strong without the HEV suit as he’d imagined he was…

Except he couldn’t do any of that, because his stupid leg was in a giant cast and he was probably at least ten years too old for Gordon at this point.

They’d already had _that_ conversation, and learning that Gordon was still physically 27 years old, somehow—he’d been pretty vague on the details—had felt like the final nail in the coffin for whatever they’d had all those years ago. 

As he swallowed his last piece of candy, Barney made a snap decision: For the sake of his own sanity, he was going to have to bite the bullet again. It wasn’t like continuing to drag this out would change anything, and goddammit, he needed closure.

He took another deep breath and hid his emotions behind a mask of stoicism before he shattered the silence with a single, pointed question.

“Why’re you still here?”

Gordon turned to look at him, brows furrowed in confusion. “You… you said I could stay?”

Barney sighed. God, why did Gordon always have to take things so damn literally?

“No, I mean, why are you still _here?”_ He shrugged his shoulders to dislodge Gordon’s arm, hoping he would take the hint this time.

Almost immediately, Gordon physically withdrew, but he made no move to leave the bed and his utterly bewildered expression never faltered.

“You said yourself, I’m gonna be all healed up soon,” Barney clarified. “I’m out of the woods, y’know? You can let me down easy.”

When Gordon still didn’t respond, Barney forced himself to face him head-on and spelled it out for him: “You don’t gotta keep actin’ like you still want me.”

Instead of looking relieved, as Barney had anticipated, Gordon looked like he’d been punched in the gut.

“I… what… where is this coming from?”

“Look at me,” Barney muttered in exasperation, gesturing vaguely at himself with an outstretched arm to emphasize the obvious. “I’m an old man.”

After a beat of awkward silence, Gordon countered, “You’re… what, 44? 45? That’s not… I wouldn’t say you’re _old,_ exactly.”

Back at Black Mesa, Barney and Gordon had often joked about how turning 30 was the beginning of the end. In fact, he had planned to go all out for Gordon’s thirtieth birthday: AARP subscription, Rogaine, denture cream, non-slip bathmat…

Yeah, 45 was old. There was no getting around that. Especially in comparison to _twenty-fucking-seven._ Then again, one could argue that Barney’s age wasn’t even the most repulsive thing about him… not by a long shot. 

“I’m not the same person I was at Black Mesa, Gordon,” he said softly, his face burning with shame and regret. Gordon had seen him in a Civil Protection uniform, so… he _knew._ He had to.

Gordon fixed him with a look of pure defiance and retorted, “And you don’t think I’ve changed too?” He clearly intended for that question to be rhetorical, and Barney almost laughed. Almost.

“Sure, yeah, you bulked up a little and got a haircut.” Barney rolled his eyes dismissively. “‘S not the same, and you know it. I mean… fuckin’ hell, I’ve got _gray hair_ , for Chrissakes!”

“I think the gray hair makes you look—”

Barney cut him off with a groan. “If you say ‘distinguished,’ so help me God…” He let the half-formed threat hang in the air, just _daring_ Gordon to try to placate him with some stupid cliché.

“Actually,” Gordon mumbled, so quietly that Barney had to lean in to hear him, “I was going to say it’s… kind of hot… but um, ‘distinguished’ works too.”

Barney sighed again. “C’mon, Gordon, you don’t have to…” He lost his train of thought when Gordon looked up from his lap and slowly turned to meet his eye. His face was bright red, and his expression was so adorably earnest that Barney almost couldn’t stand to look at him.

And then it clicked. 

“Oh, you’re… serious?” Barney blinked a few times in surprise, and he could feel his own face heating up as his mind raced through _all_ the possible implications of this revelation.

“Yeah. You’ve… aged really well, actually.” Gordon relaxed slightly and flashed a shy smile that told Barney he was actually, somehow, _completely_ serious. And that felt… surreal, to say the least.

“Is that… weird?” Gordon asked, when Barney failed to respond to his compliment. “I’m not put off by the, uh, the age gap thing, but I completely understand if you think it’s creepy, and it’s fine if you want to just go back to being friends or… um, whatever you’re comfortable with, and we can just agree to never speak of this again, but I…”

“Nah, don’t worry, it’s not creepy,” Barney interrupted, sensing that Gordon was dangerously close to spiraling into a full-blown anxiety attack. He also needed him to just _stop talking_ for a minute so he could sort through his own thoughts.

Fine, so maybe all those years of hanging out with old farts had led Gordon to develop some weird thing for middle-aged guys with premature grays and a little extra weight around the middle. That made sense, kind of. But on top of that, was Gordon seriously suggesting that they could just… pick up where they’d left off? After everything? After _two decades?_

Gordon’s voice, gentle and surprisingly steady, interrupted Barney’s incredulous musings. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

Barney shook his head and exhaled slowly before responding, “You know you could have damn near anybody you wanted, right?” He didn’t have proof of that, exactly, but it stood to reason that being the One Free Man would give anyone a serious leg up in the romance department.

In an effort to fill the suffocating silence that had descended upon the room, Barney continued, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I _wanna_ believe you, but I gotta ask…” He paused to swallow the lump forming in his throat. “Why the hell are you still hung up on _me,_ when I’m…?”

Old. Traumatized. Broken. A very recently retired agent of extraterrestrial fascism. Barney figured Gordon was smart enough to fill in the blanks.

Instead of answering his question, Gordon wordlessly rolled over onto his side, pulled both of his legs up onto the bed, and propped up his head with one arm so that he could look Barney in the eye. Although he was still occupying the same physical space as he had earlier, he suddenly seemed infinitely closer.

Barney’s breath hitched when Gordon reached out and gently cupped his cheek with his free hand. Bright green eyes searched his, and a small smile tugged at the corners of Gordon’s lips.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Barney breathed, his heart pounding with anticipation and nervousness. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so vulnerable and so safe at the same time.

Gordon’s smile widened. His gaze briefly flickered down to Barney’s lips, so quickly that he almost wondered if he’d imagined it. “Are you still attracted to me?” he asked, as if he didn’t already know the answer.

“God, _yeah,_ but—”

“Can I kiss you, then?”

Struck speechless, Barney could only nod in response, and his mind went blank the second Gordon’s lips met his. He closed his eyes and savored the sensation—foreign and familiar all at once—that ever-so-fleetingly seemed to transport him back in time.

And then, all too soon, Gordon pulled away. He was still cupping Barney’s cheek, and his tender expression when he searched his face to gauge his reaction nearly brought tears to his eyes. For so long, he’d never expected to see Gordon again, and then he’d come back, and then he’d thought he’d disappeared again, but now he was _here,_ and he was looking at him with so much affection… 

Barney completely lost track of how long they remained frozen, simply staring at each other in silent wonder, before Gordon leaned forward and closed the gap between them again.

This time, Barney actively kissed him back. Gordon tasted faintly like green Skittles, but he found that he didn’t care. He needed to feel this, feel _him_ , as much as he possibly could before the novelty and nostalgia of the situation wore off and Gordon started having second thoughts.

Barney gasped when Gordon ran his tongue across the small scar on his lower lip. He eagerly parted his lips in anticipation of Gordon’s next move.

However, instead of deepening the kiss, Gordon broke away and grinned.

“So, do you believe me now?”

“I—” Barney’s words caught in his throat. He wasn’t sure how to handle being the sole object of Gordon’s gaze—suddenly not just warm, but undeniably _hot_ —and that look alone was enough to bring years’ worth of repressed emotions bubbling to the surface.

Gordon’s grin transformed into a playful smirk. “Or do you need a little more _convincing?”_ he teased, as he moved his hand from Barney’s face to run his fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck.

Once again, Barney found himself at a complete loss for words, unable to respond with more than a nod. Something about the way Gordon was taking charge, teasing him, and looking so damn smug about it _did things_ for him, and he suspected Gordon was well aware of that.

In a flash, they picked up exactly where they’d left off, and it wasn’t long before muscle memory completely took over. Barney felt 25 again as their tongues rolled against one another and they moaned softly into each other’s mouths, at least until Gordon disentangled his free hand from Barney’s hair and began to tentatively explore his neck and chest through his thin t-shirt.

Every single one of Gordon’s gentle touches and caresses sent a pleasant jolt of electricity straight to Barney’s core, but it still took everything in his power not to push him away. He felt exposed, trapped on his back and completely at Gordon’s mercy, and he couldn’t help but hyper-focus on how _different_ he must look and feel after so many years of questionable nutrition and seemingly endless brutality.

“You okay?” Gordon asked. He moved his hand away, seeming to sense Barney’s discomfort, and Barney discovered that the only thing worse than the feeling of Gordon touching him was the feeling of Gordon _not_ touching him.

He grabbed Gordon’s hand and pulled it back to where it had been resting against his chest only seconds earlier, self-consciousness be damned, and he sighed with pleasure and relief when Gordon enthusiastically resumed trailing his fingertips from his chest down to his stomach.

Gordon’s soft hum of approval when he splayed his hand across Barney’s belly immediately put him at ease, and more than that, it made him feel _wanted_ in a way he’d never expected to feel again. 

For the first time, he allowed himself to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, this was more than a nostalgia trip for Gordon. Maybe he really did like what he saw, and maybe they _both_ wanted more.

Barney expressed his thanks with a bruising kiss, and he felt Gordon smile against his lips. At that point, Barney’s curiosity finally got the better of him, and he reached out to reacquaint himself with Gordon’s physique.

Much to his disappointment, he found that he wasn’t able to explore as much as he wanted to. Thanks to his stupid leg, he was trapped in a position where he could do little more than awkwardly grope Gordon’s chest and arms wherever he could reach them.

That wasn’t to say that he didn’t find that experience rewarding, frustrating as it was. He knew Gordon had bulked up almost overnight from all that intense combat, but actually caressing those muscles—even though Gordon’s long-sleeved, annoyingly starchy lab coat—and feeling Gordon shiver under his touch was such a turn-on that Barney almost felt guilty about how much he was enjoying it.

After all, it wasn’t like Gordon had planned or wanted to spend several weeks engaging in an intensive, combat-fueled full-body workout, but… _holy shit._

Eventually, the crick in Barney’s neck from facing Gordon at such an unnatural angle became too painful to ignore, and he reluctantly broke their kiss. He noted with satisfaction that he wasn’t the only one struggling to catch his breath, and he couldn’t help but blush when Gordon leaned in one last time to kiss his forehead before checking in.

“All good?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Barney replied, just in case the look on his face didn’t make that abundantly clear. “Just wonderin’ if we can switch things up a bit here. Neck’s gettin’ tired.”

Gordon nodded. “What did you have in mind?”

Barney thought for a moment. Really, they only had a couple of options. “So, the cast, uh, complicates things. I can roll over on my side, if you want, but you gotta help move the pillows to keep it elevated and we can’t put any pressure on it. Or you could, um…” He trailed off, suddenly embarrassed, even though he wasn’t sure why. 

“You want me on top of you, Barn?” Gordon murmured without breaking eye contact, his voice low and husky. 

Barney barely managed an “Mhmm” before his brain temporarily short-circuited. He’d already known that Gordon could take charge when he wanted to, but… Jesus, where the _fuck_ had he gotten all this confidence, and since when did he know exactly how to use it? 

Gordon slid off the bed in preparation to reposition himself, and Barney made an alarming discovery when he happened to glance past him.

“Hey, while you’re up… lock the door, would ya?” he asked. He didn’t want to get too far ahead of himself, but even if they didn’t go any further than this, he didn’t want any visitors or random passersby getting an eyeful. 

Gordon blanched and made a beeline to do just that. Once the deadbolt was secure, he shrugged off his lab coat and hung it on the hook on the back of the door. On his way back to bed, he paused to pick up Barney’s discarded crutches and left them leaning against the nightstand, well within his reach once again.

Seconds later, Gordon was towering over Barney at the foot of the bed, presumably strategizing about how best to maneuver around the cast. Barney kicked off his covers with his good leg and took advantage of the lull in the action to shamelessly ogle Gordon’s exposed arms. His eyes went wide when Gordon reached for his belt, inadvertently—or perhaps purposely—drawing attention to the prominent bulge in his jeans.

Almost as if he’d anticipated that reaction, Gordon let out a low chuckle and rolled his eyes. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Barn,” he teased as he removed the accessory much more slowly than necessary. “I’m taking this off so it doesn’t stab either of us in the stomach. I thought that was just common courtesy.”

Barney responded with an eyeroll of his own and mentally formulated a comeback about the _other_ hard object that was very clearly going to be poking him in the stomach momentarily, but he decided not to share it out loud. He wanted Gordon on top of him even more than he wanted to get the last word in, for once.

Gordon motioned for him to lie flat on his back, and Barney complied by removing several of the pillows supporting his torso before carefully scooting further down the bed. It took a minute to get everything re-situated, but as soon as he was ready, Gordon climbed onto the bed, straddled Barney’s good leg, and slowly lowered his weight down on top of him until they were eye-to-eye with their faces mere inches apart. 

“Missed you,” Gordon whispered, and Barney wasn’t sure if he was referring to the last five minutes or the last twenty years.

Instead of kissing him right away, Gordon gently cupped his cheek again. This time, he slowly, deliberately brushed his thumb across the long scar under his left eye. Barney involuntarily stiffened and looked away, unwilling to face the revulsion or pity he expected to see in Gordon’s eyes.

“No, no, I like it,” Gordon confessed, words tumbling out quickly as he scrambled to put Barney at ease. “I mean… I don’t like that you were hurt, obviously, but the scar… it, um… it does things for me.”

Gordon was blushing again, and Barney couldn’t decide if he wanted to cry or fuck him senseless. He let out a shuddering breath and tried to think of an appropriate response that fell somewhere between those two extremes.

“Got a lot more of ‘em, y’know… if that’s what you’re into these days,” he replied, finally.

Gordon grinned and moved his hand from Barney’s face to the hem of his t-shirt. “Show me?” he asked. When Barney hesitated, he removed his hand and clarified, “Only if you want to.”

Barney couldn’t help but think back to how he must have looked the last time Gordon had seen him shirtless. He’d been a hell of a lot thinner, for one thing; he’d also been in the best shape of his life, and unmarked, save for the one birthmark on his hip that Gordon had loved to kiss.

Ultimately, he simply shrugged and left the decision up to Gordon. “May not be what you’re expecting,” he warned him.

“Surprise me, then.”

With that, Barney relented and let Gordon remove his shirt. He held his breath as Gordon sat up and swept his gaze and impossibly soft hands across his chest and stomach, just as he had done earlier. This time, though, he took care to brush his fingertips across every single scar and bruise, almost reverently.

Barney’s lingering self-consciousness all but dissipated when he caught Gordon’s eye again and saw the look on his face. Gordon’s dark eyes and flushed cheeks confirmed that he was still undeniably aroused, but there was another emotion playing across his features that Barney couldn’t quite place. He looked… sad, almost. 

“God, you’re so strong, Barn,” he whispered, and Barney couldn’t tell if he was referring to the muscles that were indeed still there, just under a little extra padding, or everything he had gone through to get those scars.

Out of pure desperation to change the subject before he could get emotional and ruin the mood, Barney reached for Gordon’s shirt. “Hey, I showed you mine, so you gotta show me yours. Only fair, y’know?”

Gordon laughed and pulled his t-shirt off over his head. Barney figured it was a good thing he was laying down, because otherwise, his jaw would’ve hit the floor. Gordon’s lanky form had, indeed, filled out quite a bit, and he looked _perfect_ , in spite of—or perhaps even because of—the raised, angry scars scattered across his pale, surprisingly toned torso.

Barney had struggled considerably, as of late, to reconcile his memories of Gordon from before the Incident with the fact that Gordon was now revered as a Godlike hero by at least one race of aliens and most of humanity.

He liked to think he was more or less immune to all that hero-worship stuff, but… still. Seeing Gordon like this, strong and sexy but also undeniably human and vulnerable, gave Barney a new appreciation for just how lucky they all were that Gordon had come back, and how lucky Gordon was that he’d survived everything fate had thrown at him.

It wasn’t long before they were fully horizontal and kissing again, lips and hands roaming to explore whatever they could reach as they reacquainted themselves with one another’s bodies.

Barney was very pleased to discover that more had stayed the same than had changed, even after all this time. If Gordon’s low moans and soft gasps were anything to go by, it appeared most of his old tricks still worked.

So far, neither of them had gotten handsy below the waist, but that didn’t stop Barney from ignoring his right leg’s occasional protests and clumsily grinding his hips against Gordon’s. It also didn’t stop Gordon from pinning him down and letting him squirm while he kissed and nipped at the pulse point on Barney’s neck that he knew drove him wild.

Gordon tightened his grip on Barney’s wrists where they were pinned above his head and shamelessly ground into him once, then twice, then a third time, before he abruptly pulled away to look him in the eye. Barney nearly whimpered at the sudden loss of contact.

“How far do you want this to go?” Gordon asked, breathlessly.

In some alternate reality where Barney had full use of both of his legs and slightly less trauma, he liked to think he would have already had Gordon bent over the mattress and screaming his name. By this point, his only reservations about escalating this encounter were related to the logistics of the whole thing. 

“I mean, my range of motion is kinda limited at the moment,” he noted, gesturing unnecessarily towards his useless leg, “so if that’s gonna be a problem…”

Gordon met his gaze with a wicked grin. “Oh, I think we can work around that.” He reached for the waistband of Barney’s sweatpants. “May I?”

“Please,” Barney whispered.

Much to his simultaneous frustration and pleasure, Gordon took his sweet time kissing down his body. When he _finally_ reached his waist, it took some maneuvering to pull his sweatpants down, seeing as they were bunched above the cast. Eventually, they came to an unspoken agreement to leave them on and just push them out of the way.

“Bold choice, going commando in sweats,” Gordon teased as he took Barney’s aching erection in his hand and swiped his thumb across the tip before letting it fall back against his stomach.

Barney bit back a moan and forced himself to keep a straight face long enough to deadpan, “There was an apocalypse, Gordon. You can’t just run to the store when you run out of underwear anymore.”

Gordon chuckled at the reference to their long-running joke about one of Barney’s more shameful laundry habits. “Let me guess… the washing machine here is perpetually broken, too?” he joked as he skimmed his fingertips along Barney’s hipbones, his lower stomach, his inner thighs… 

“Fuckin’ hell, Gordon, when did you get to be such a tease?”

Without dignifying Barney’s outburst with a verbal response, Gordon winked and repositioned himself so that his head was resting between Barney’s legs. He made sure Barney could feel the warmth of his breath where he wanted him most… and waited.

Barney let out a needy moan that sounded more like a whine and stared Gordon down, eyes glazed over with lust. He figured he should be embarrassed, but hell, he was long past caring. “Please,” he begged again.

He arched his back as Gordon kissed the birthmark on his hip and the collection of dark, angry scars on his lower abdomen before taking him into his mouth. Barney tangled his fingers into Gordon’s hair, urging him on.

God, he missed Gordon’s long hair. He idly wondered when he’d decided to cut it off.

After starting out slow, Gordon eventually began to pick up the pace, and Barney was pretty sure he’d died and gone to heaven. “Fuck, how are you still so good at this?” he moaned as Gordon swirled his tongue around a particularly sensitive spot.

He groaned when Gordon released him with a loud “pop” and replaced his mouth with his hand in order to answer his _obviously_ rhetorical question.

“Feels like it’s only been a few weeks since the last time,” Gordon murmured, voice thick with an emotion that Barney couldn’t quite place.

A split second later, Barney froze as the full weight of the implications behind Gordon’s words hit him like a razor train at top speed.

That didn’t make sense… that would have to mean… _oh,_ so _that_ was why… oh, _Jesus._

As soon as he snapped out of his initial trance, Barney grabbed Gordon’s hand to still his movements. He needed a minute to wrap his mind around this without any distractions.

When Gordon let go of him and sat up, his wide-eyed expression mirrored Barney’s. However, instead of looking confused, he looked _scared._ Panicked, even.

“I thought… I thought we’d established that I’m still 27?” he whispered.

“Yeah, but I guess I never…” Barney wanted to say something to reassure him, but he hadn’t finished processing this revelation himself. “I mean, it _just now_ hit me that the last twenty years just _didn’t happen_ for you, and I… God… how does that even…?”

“Slow teleport,” Gordon explained. “That’s my best guess, anyway.”

“Huh.” Barney took another minute to collect his thoughts and did his best to ignore how weird it felt to be having this conversation while mostly naked and still half-aroused.

So many things suddenly made sense: Gordon’s naivety about certain aspects of post-Combine culture, his age, the clarity with which he remembered things that had happened decades before… And then, of course, Barney still vividly remembered Gordon’s _other_ mishap with a slow teleport, so yes, that theory definitely made a hell of a lot more sense than any of the ideas he’d managed to come up with on his own.

Barney exhaled slowly and attempted to break the tension with some only slightly nervous laughter. “Yeah, okay, I guess I can see why ya didn’t just tell me that right off. I mean… _damn.”_

“Does this… change anything about, uh…” Gordon gestured vaguely between them.

“God, no.” Barney laughed again and pulled Gordon down to kiss him. “Missed you so much, Doc,” he murmured against his lips, and he felt Gordon relax instantly before he kissed him back.

In that moment, all Barney could focus on was how _lucky_ he felt; he could figure out the hows and whys later, but for now, he was just glad to have Gordon back, and by God, he was _never_ going to let him set foot in a teleporter again.

It only took a few more minutes of frenzied, passionate making out for Barney to completely forget about the weird-ass sci-fi elements that made this hookup possible. He was hard as a rock once again, and all he could think about was how badly he wanted— _needed—_ to come, and how badly he wanted to see Gordon. All of him.

“Gordon, you… mmph…” Barney nudged Gordon’s head away from his chest and continued, “You’ve gotta get out of those jeans.”

“Oh, I do, do I?”

Barney was long past the point of playing along. “Yeah,” he grunted as he hooked his fingers through Gordon’s belt loops as if he could actually undress him himself. As an afterthought, he suggested, “Might also wanna grab a towel.”

“Fine, if you insist.”

Gordon got out of bed slowly and stripped off his jeans and boxers in one smooth motion. Barney shamelessly ogled his ass—somehow even more perfect than he remembered—while Gordon picked up a towel from his previously untouched pile of clean linens before he climbed on top of him again, this time straddling his waist.

“Not exactly sure how this is gonna work, but—”

Gordon cut him off before he had a chance to finish apologizing. “I have an idea,” he said.

Barney grabbed a couple of discarded pillows to prop himself up while Gordon draped the towel across his stomach and carefully shifted into a position where he could wrap his hand around both of them, stroking slowly while they settled into a rhythm with their thrusts.

 _“Fuck,”_ Barney moaned. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of this already, but then again, inventive sex positions had always been more Gordon’s thing. Regularly fucking an MIT-educated physicist had certainly had its perks.

“Good?” Gordon asked with an all-too-satisfied smirk. He seemed to accept whatever strangled noise Barney managed to produce as a “yes,” and then genuine concern briefly flickered across his features. “Leg’s okay?”

Barney nodded. Gordon wasn’t putting any pressure on it, and although Barney had a feeling this wasn’t _quite_ what his doctor had had in mind when she’d cleared him for ‘light physical activity,’ he didn’t really give a damn at this point. Not when he could feel Gordon throbbing and twitching against him and he could see _all_ of him and he was so goddamn _perfect…_

After what felt like another eternity of endless teasing, Barney’s desperation started to get the better of him. He reached down, hoping to take over, but Gordon gently pushed his hand away. “I’ve got you,” Gordon reassured him.

And he did, but goddamn it, if he didn’t pick up the pace soon…

“More,” Barney demanded, and he dug his fingers into Gordon’s thigh and moaned a string of breathless curse words when Gordon complied.

On the handful of occasions Barney had gotten himself off in recent history, it had always been purely for stress relief; quick, quiet, and tragically numbed by the secondary effects of the suppression field. The way Gordon handled him now made him feel like he was seeing in color again after twenty years spent in black and white.

He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge with each rough movement of Gordon’s hand… each frantic thrust of their hips… each ragged breath and needy moan that escaped his lips…

The feeling was exhilarating, but it was also terrifying. Losing control— _giving up_ control—was so counter to every single instinct that had kept him alive since Black Mesa that even though he knew he could trust Gordon to catch him when he fell, some stubborn part of his subconscious was holding him back. 

Barney forced himself to tear his gaze away from where their bodies were rocking against each other. He needed Gordon to know that he was close, and more importantly, he needed to know that he was safe.

They locked eyes, and that was all it took for Barney to finally let go. Time seemed to slow as he pulsed into Gordon’s hand and threw his head back just before his vision faded to black. He was vaguely aware that Gordon was saying something, but he couldn’t hear him over his own sounds of pleasure and his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Gordon kept stroking him until he was completely spent, and he knew just when to release him before the sensation overwhelmed him. Barney's vision faded back in and he opened his eyes just in time to watch Gordon finish himself off, hips bucking wildly as he spilled across Barney’s stomach and moaned his name.

It was the hottest fucking thing he’d ever seen.

There was silence, afterwards, save for the sound of their labored breathing. Barney felt simultaneously heavy and weightless, completely blissed out and unable to do anything besides stare up at Gordon in awe.

Gordon’s full body blush deepened when they made eye contact again, and his face broke into a goofy grin that Barney imagined matched his own.

“So, the towel… that was a good call,” Gordon remarked with a soft chuckle as he wiped down the rest of Barney’s chest and his own hand. He made sure to catch Barney’s eye as he licked a couple of fingers for good measure, and then he folded the towel in on itself and tossed it off the side of the bed.

Despite his shaking legs, Gordon managed to slide off of Barney’s lap without disturbing his cast, which was miraculously still resting in more or less the same place it had been when they’d gotten started. He pulled Barney’s sweatpants back up to his waist and flopped down next to him.

“That was amazing,” he murmured. 

Barney almost responded with a crack about how Gordon had done a good ninety percent of the work, but in the interest of not ruining the moment, he simply hummed in agreement instead.

Gordon rested his head on Barney’s shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist. Once he’d gotten settled, he let out a contented sigh and mumbled, “Give me 20 and we can go for round two.”

Barney snorted and shot Gordon a well-meaning but extremely patronizing look out of the corner of his eye. “Some of us aren’t in our twenties anymore, genius. Recovery time from _that_ is gonna need to be measured in hours, not minutes.” He paused and took inventory of his body again. “Possibly _days.”_

“That’s okay,” Gordon replied with a grin. “I can wait.” He tightened his grip on Barney’s waist and nuzzled into his neck, and then suddenly froze. “Wait, is it okay if I…?”

Barney sighed dramatically and pretended to deliberate. “Hmmm, well… eh, sure, I _guess_ you can stay,” he teased.

He guided Gordon to rest with his head on his chest and ran his fingers through his hair to keep his hands busy while he finished coming down from his earlier high. 

Shortly after his post-orgasm brain fog cleared, it finally sunk in that this wasn’t going to have to be a one-time thing. Gordon was back, he wasn’t going anywhere, and he wanted this. Wanted _him._ It still felt surreal.

Barney blinked back a few happy tears before he carefully slid Gordon’s glasses off of his face and set them on the nightstand. He wanted to stay like this for a while, and the last thing they needed was for Gordon to somehow break his glasses in a snuggling accident. He’d already done that once in the past, and it wasn’t like he still had premium vision insurance.

A moment later, Gordon reached out and grabbed Barney’s free hand, intertwining their fingers as he tucked their clasped hands against his chest.

“Hey, Barn?” Gordon spoke so quietly that the sound almost didn't register. 

“Mmm?”

“You remember when we first got together?”

“Yeah?” Barney perked up at that. After everything that had happened between them, he thought it would be nice to reminisce about simpler times.

Before Barney had a chance to figure out where he wanted to start, Gordon partially sat up in order to look him in the eye and fixed him with a shit-eating grin.

“Remember how long it took me to figure out that you were into me? And how much crap you gave me about that? For _months?”_

Barney couldn’t decide whether to laugh or groan. “Oh, don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he retorted. “That was _completely_ different, and you know it.”

“Yeah? How so, exactly?” Gordon asked, still smug.

Barney rolled his eyes and scrambled to formulate a good comeback. God, he wasn’t even sure where to start with this. There was the whole hostile alien invasion thing, the 18-year age gap, the fact that Gordon was basically the second coming of Christ…

Actually, no. He didn’t even need to get into all of that to win this argument. 

“It was so obvious, Gordon. We’re talkin’ _painfully_ obvious. I mean, hell, I was always bringin’ you coffee, findin’ dumb excuses to stop by your office… Did you know I actually hid Kleiner’s keys once just so I’d have an excuse to see you? I swear, every single person in that facility knew I had a thing for you, except you.”

Barney shook his head and chuckled as long-forgotten memories from before the Incident came flooding back. “Still can’t believe I ended up havin’ to jump your fuckin’ bones to get it through your head.”

Instead of graciously backing down, as Barney had expected, Gordon simply stared at him like he was an idiot and stated, very matter-of-factly, “I visited you in the infirmary every day for three weeks.”

“Yeah, well… so did a lotta people!” Barney countered.

Gordon snorted, as if that was the silliest comeback he’d ever heard. “Every single day?” he pressed.

When Barney didn’t respond, Gordon doubled down and began ticking off arguments on his fingers. “I snuck you extra helpings of dessert. I played, like, 50 games of hangman with you. I brought you flowers a couple weeks ago. God, Barn… I _literally_ held your hand and told you how much I loved you for the better part of an hour after your last surgery.”

Wait, _what?_

“I was trying to be subtle, given the circumstances, but still…” Gordon continued, “that all sounds pretty obvious to me.”

“I swear… I have absolutely no memory of that last thing,” Barney confessed. “I was on a shitload of painkillers, remember?”

Gordon fell quiet for a long moment before he finally replied, “Well, I suppose that explains why you just said “cool, thanks” and then told me I had a really nice butt.”

At that, Barney absolutely lost it.

“And that _seriously_ didn’t clue you in that maybe I wasn’t all there?” he choked out between peals of laughter.

Without missing a beat, Gordon deadpanned, “Look me in the eyes and tell me that’s not something you’d say sober.” He only managed to hold out for another couple of seconds before he also cracked up. 

Barney ultimately elected not to give Gordon the satisfaction of a response, even though he knew that his silence was basically an admission of defeat. Instead, he grabbed Gordon’s closest arm and pulled him back down towards him.

Fortunately, Gordon seemed more than content to abandon their mock argument in favor of resting his head on Barney’s chest again. Once he’d gotten settled, he began to trace patterns across his skin, connecting his scars like stars in a constellation. They stayed like that, quiet and nearly still, until Barney worked up the courage to break the silence.

“I do love you, you know?” he said softly. They’d never gotten around to saying it before everything had gone to hell, but now that Gordon had put it out there… Well, he didn’t want to pass up another opportunity. Just in case.

Almost immediately, Gordon replied, “Cool, thanks.” Barney rolled his eyes and acknowledged the joke with a courtesy chuckle—fine, maybe he’d deserved that—and then he held his breath and waited.

A moment later, Gordon grabbed hold of his free hand once again and squeezed. “Love you too,” he whispered, and by some miracle, Barney actually believed him. 


End file.
